Control

control

your demeanor is one to be meaner because you can't stand the fact you aren't in control, that you can't patrol each and every crevice, and part of a world you once knew, blew away because you placed your grip upon the key to your ego, but it slipped away and it flew, away to a world where it could start anew, free from the grasp of your despotic hands, that your pulse and glands retract and expands every time the key to control is near, fear that they'll sense your disingenuous attitude, the feeling of self gratitude that all that could matter to you isn't a how are you and i'll care for you still, it's a lingering anger where jealousy trills, and fills your spirit with lakes of madness, that when you reflect, all you feel is sadness, of why it had to be this way, of this bed I’ve layed. 

when I love you tickles the tip of my tongue, I feel the feeling of grips of pride, that my soul abides to put on a front of tough where sin arrives, and prescribes my spirt a pill that fills my heart with rage, when the previous print of page, wages war on my need to control, and patrol the streets of your secrets, the need to gather my key to your mind, and unlock the part where I find, it easy to undermine your self intuition and give myself permission to steer you near, and hold you close and play on fear. 

my recipe for toxic, my key re locks it, to veil what I love you means, the fact it's really the means in which i'll preen over myself and my manipulative stunt, giving up my soul to put on a front, of a loving man who's willing to stand, and tell you with a straight face and take your hand, and tell you it's for the best even if it's stress that rests in the bed that you made with vice, splicing the door to the portal of past, its vast fields of the shortcomings of my forefathers, the passing on of the need to flick, the sticks of the controller I use to control what it means to be, your plea be make believe because when my jealousy speaks my shortcomings leak, to show i'm weak and can't stand the fact that you seek a world where, you can't be controlled by me.

when jealousy speaks it reeks of fear, that its grips on your life are losing steer, of your vehicle to your heart, that when my key does its part, the rage inside begins to harp, a sharp pain inside, where vice derives because what it means to be is to control, every hook of your temple, from your feet to your pimples, simply because of cycles of toxics power, that because dysfunctional carries my soul shall be towered, by figures of anger when jealousy showers, it's hasty works on my body. 

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